Chapter 7 - The Battle of Fulton Street
The estate erupted into chaos.
Alarm sirens began to wail through the mansion, casting pulsing red light across the high marble corridors. The sound of automatic gunfire echoed from the front courtyard, shattering the heavy glass windows of the grand foyer.
Raphael didn't panic. In a single fluid motion, he pulled a sleek black sidearm from a hidden holster beneath his desk, flicking the safety off with his thumb.
"Leo! Get Elena to the safe room beneath the wine cellar!" Raphael barked commands over the sound of breaking glass. "Bring the secondary security team to the east wing!"
He turned to Maya, grabbing her arm and pulling her behind his heavy oak desk.
"Stay down," Raphael ordered, his voice commanding and absolute. "Whatever happens, do not leave this room."
"Raphael, no!" Maya cried, grabbing his wrist. "They have assault rifles!"
"This is my house, Maya," Raphael said softly, his thumb briefly brushing against her cheek, wiping away her tear. "And nobody touches what stands in my house."
Ghost let out a deep, fierce bark, standing beside Raphael, his hackles raised, his white fur bristling with rage.
"Ghost, stay with her!" Raphael commanded sharply.
The dog looked at Raphael, then looked at Maya, and reluctantly backed up, positioning his large white body directly in front of Maya beneath the desk.
Raphael stepped out of the library, slamming the heavy mahogany doors behind him.
Seconds later, the hallway outside turned into a war zone.
The deafening roar of gunfire, the shattering of antiques, and the shouts of men echoed through the heavy wood doors. Maya crouched beneath the desk, her hands clasped over her ears, her heart beating so hard she thought her chest would split open. Beside her, Ghost growled continuously, his eyes fixed on the door handle.
Suddenly, a heavy thud struck the library doors.
The lock splintered with a loud CRACK. The double doors burst inward, and a tall, broad-shouldered man with a shaved head and a dark leather trench coat stepped into the room.
It was Viktor Vance.
He held a silver revolver in his right hand, blood dripping from a cut on his cheek. His eyes swept across the library until they landed on the desk where Maya was hiding.
"Maya Foster!" Vance shouted, his voice filled with cruel amusement. "Come out, come out, little girl! Give me Thomas's notebook, and I might let you live to see tomorrow!"
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Ghost didn't wait for a command.
The white dog exploded from beneath the desk like a bullet.
